


Fox in the (Blue) Hen House

by willowtwig



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Clint is a peeping tom and a cuck lmao, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Eventual Smut, Masturbation, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Peeping, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28906260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowtwig/pseuds/willowtwig
Summary: When Clint hears that a new farmer is coming to town, he feels iffy about a newcomer. Then when they started to pull moves on Emily, he started to feel resentment. But when he realizes that they seem to be getting it on with everyone in town... he doesnt know if what he's feeling is shock, disgust, or good-old fashion jealousy.
Relationships: Clint/Player (Stardew Valley), Emily/Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12





	1. When the Dogs Start Barking

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so bear with me. By no stretch would i call myself a writer, but i honestly just need a steamy clint fic or i'll tear my hair out lol. Also the oc character is nb/agender so there are some vague parts, feel free to fill them in with whatever your heart desires. Enjoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint meets the new farmer.

Clint was sitting at a table in the saloon. His pint of beer sat half finished in front of him as he massaged his palms nervously. It was a friday afternoon, so the saloon was busy. Everyone was at their usual place; Marnie and Lewis sat at the table in front of him, Leah and Elliot behind them, Shane and Pam at the bar, and Sebastian, Sam, and Abigail in the arcade room. The building was filled with a loud constant chatter that made Clint feel hidden and safe. Emily and Gus were behind the bar, chatting casually while drying dishware. 

Clint watched Emily from the corner of his eye, filled with longing. She was always so happy, and energetic. Clint wished he could match her energy, maybe that would help him win her over. But honestly, there was probably no point in dreaming, he's absolute shit at flirting and can barely get through a whole sentence around her without stuttering. 

He sighed and took a long sip from his glass. 

"So, I heard that the new farmer is supposed to arrive in town tomorrow, I can't wait to meet them!" Emily's face lit up with excitement as she spoke to Gus. Clint heard Shane grunt quietly to himself. 

"Hopefully having the farm back up and running will boost the local economy a bit," Gus replied with a low chuckle and a smile. "And hopefully get me another regular. Wouldn't be too bad for my finances, hah." 

Clint held his pint with both hands and tipped it to look at the bottom. Swirling the amber liquid around, Clint thought about the idea of someone new in town. He wasn't sure if he cared too much. Maybe he shared Gus' opinion, farmers gotta get their tools upgraded right? Could be good for business. Other than that, he didn't know what to think. 

Clint raised the glass to his mouth and finished off the beer. He pushed his stool back and left the saloon wordlessly, staring at the ground as he walked to avoid accidentally making eye contact with someone. 

He walked silently across the cobblestone streets back to his house, the spring’s night air cooling his skin. Life was really getting him down these last few months. Everyday was the same. Working at the forge all day, drinking and pining by night. But he didn’t really know what to do about it. Or even if he COULD do something about it. 

Opening his front door, a wave of warmth rolled out at Clint. The air in his place was always hot, the AC being no match for the fire of his forge. Letting another deep sigh out, he locked the door behind him and headed to bed. 

He slept rough that night, as he did most nights, tossing and turning in the heat of the empty house. 

______________

About a week had passed since the new farmer had settled in town. Clint still hadn’t met them, but every night at the saloon _someone_ had new info to share with the rest of the townsfolk.

Just last night Clint had overheard Emily and Marnie talking about how they are apparently planning on getting some sheep. When Emily squealed with excitement in response and said _‘I wonder if I can convince them to give me some wool, I would love to start making my own fabric!’_ , Clint couldn’t help but feel a slight drop in his stomach. But he pushed down the thought that _Emily already likes this stranger more than she likes you, you fuckin’ chump_ , because its only been a _week_ and that would be _insane_...Right? 

Today he felt downcast and couldn’t get out of his own head. Couldn’t stop disaster-thinking about Emily and the new farmer. He absent-mindedly stood at his forge, casting nails and screws for Robin’s newest order. It was easy for him to get stuck in a vicious cycle of downward-spiralling thoughts, which is really what his daily trip to the saloon was for. Sure, staring at Emily for hours on end was a plus, but the beer quieted his mind just enough to let him sleep that night. 

As he pushed the door open to the saloon that evening, the place sounded a bit livelier than usual. When he pushed the door open _all_ the way, he could see why. An unfamiliar figure stood leaning over the bar, their back to Clint. As Clint squeezed past them on the way to his usual spot, he could see that they were engaged deeply in a conversation with Emily.. _Oof.._

Clint sat down on the stool and saw Gus give him a wave and a smile before pouring a pint of his usual. As Gus walked the drink over to him, Clint looked the farmer up and down. They wore partially faded black overalls over an olive green long sleeve shirt,and their boots were caked in mud. They were young, and seemed decently fit. And as much as he hated to admit it, they were decently attractive. _Fuck._  
When Gus handed him the beer, Clint downed half of it in one go. 

Gus chuckled. “Long day, huh?” 

Clint just sighed and nodded in response. “Better start bringing over a second one.”

Gus smiled, the way he always seemed to, beaming with genuine happiness. “Sure thing.”

 _God, how does he do it? He seems so content with life, even being totally alone._ Clint took another long swig, watching Gus walk away. _Maybe one day I can get there.._

At this point, Harvey had joined the conversation with Emily and the new farmer. Clint rolled his eyes and slouched in his seat as he heard them laughing. 

About an hour had passed before Harvey said his goodbyes and left the pub. Clint looked at the farmer as they watched him leave. Then suddenly their eyes shot upwards and met Clint’s. 

Quickly Clint looked down at his beer, his fourth of the night so far. _Fuck,_ he thought, his eyes wide, _that was awkward._

Out of his peripheral vision he saw the farmer get up from the bar and walk up to his table. 

“Hey.”

Clint looked up, social anxiety making his stomach quiver a bit. The farmer stood in front of him, leaning an elbow on the table, the other hand outstretched casually for a handshake, and an easygoing smile on their lips.

“I’m Fox, i’m the new farmer in town.”

Clint reached to shake their hand. _Fox? Like the fuckin x-files?_ Their grip was firm, yet gentle, and their eyes were a soft amber color. 

“Er… hi.” Clints anxiety felt palpable. “I’m Clint, the town blacksmith.”

“Oh yeah, Emilys told me lots about you. Says you do good work.” They winked playfully. Clint felt a tad vulnerable, but couldn't contain the small smile that sprung onto his face at the thought of Emily, well... thinking about him. He could feel his ears get a bit hot. 

“Well, if you ever need your tools upgraded, I’m your guy.” With that they both dropped their hands.

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind. I’ll see you around.” A mischievous grin spread across their sharp yet feminine face, but Clint was a little too flustered (and buzzed) to notice. He nodded at their goodbye, and put his hands back on his beer.

He watched as Fox headed to the door, throwing a look back and waving at Emily. He also saw the beaming smile on Emilys face as she waved back. 

Sighing quietly to himself, Clint looked down into the lager in his glass. All at once he felt happy– that Emily did indeed perceive his existence– and heartbroken, at the obvious chemistry between her and the new farmer. 

Clint polished off the beer, and stood up to leave as well. He found himself a bit dizzy, and steadied himself on the table. 

_Buh.. I overdid it this time._


	2. A wolf, a goat, and a survival burger are on one side of a river...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily and Fox seem to spend more time together.

_How do I get myself into these dumb situations.._ Clint thought to himself, feeling defeated. 

He was currently hiding in a bush outside of Emily’s house, watching her and Caroline talk. He had been in there for almost an hour now as the two women caught up with each other. 

He had two tickets for a carnival tomorrow, and he had come to ask Emily to go with him. Perhaps time had given him the confidence he needed, or perhaps it was the impending possibility of losing her to Fox that finally sprung him into action. He had seen them hanging out together in the park and library multiple times over the last few weeks, and the thought of those moments made him feel a bit nauseous. Regardless, all that courage was lost the second he was standing at her door and heard her walking down the path around the corner. 

Diving into the bushes, he immediately realized the mistake he had made, but it was too late. Caroline had been walking with her, and if he jumped out of the brush now they would think he’s a perv. 

So he sat in that bush, disappointed in his quick thinking skills, and waited for the agony to be over. 

About 10 minutes later, Caroline started to say her goodbyes. _Finally_ , Clint thought to himself, _I’ve been in here forever, the sun is already setting for Yoba’s sake._

“Okay well I better be off, Pierre must be wondering where I am,” Caroline laughed softly, “ I’ll talk to you later!” 

“See ya, have a good night Caroline!” Clint could _hear_ Emily's smile, as you often could. 

Peering between the leaves, Clint watched as Caroline rounded the corner, and Emily started to unlock her door. He quietly let out a breath of relief. Soon he would be free. 

But just as Emily opened her front door, another voice rang out.

_For fucks sake.._

Clint watched as the farmer walked out from the path to Marnie’s ranch and approached Emily. _You’ve got to be kidding me, right on que..._

“Hi Fox! What are you doing here?” Emily jumped up on her toes as she often did when she was excited. Clint found it to be endearing usually, but the sight of it now was a heavy blow to the morale. 

“Well, I have some freshly picked fruit and some freshly whipped cream with me,” Fox gestured with the picnic basket in their hands. “I thought that if you weren’t busy we could snack and hang out?” They smiled sweetly and tilted their head a bit. Clint rolled his eyes. 

“Strawberries? That's very kind of you, Fox!”, Emily said, peeking into the basket, “ I’d love to, please come in!” 

Clint watched as the two of them walked into her house. As soon as the door closed, he let out a loud groan. _Damn it!_

Clumsily, he pushed his way out of the bush. Feelings of despair quickly crept over him, and he looked sullenly down into the water beside him. He kicked a rock into the river, then walked away. 

On the way home Clint clasped his hands together above his head, the way someone would to try to catch their breath after a run. _This was hopeless from the start. Maybe if you had manned up and made a move_ before _that farmer came to town, she woulda said yes. Maybe we would be the ones having cutesy dates right now.._ He rubbed his eyes out of frustration. _Yeah, right.._

As he approached his front door, Clint stopped. He took out the carnival tickets from his pocket and looked down at them. Dejected, he tore them in half, and threw them into the trash can outside.   
__________________

Clint spent the next day methodically melting down ore into bars. His head was spinning with grief, and the heat of the forge didn't help. It never helped. 

As he arrived at the saloon for his daily pint, he was honestly relieved to see Emily wasn’t working that evening. Instead, Willy was sitting at Clint’s usual table. 

The two men talked for a little while, as they sometimes did. Both men worked hard, manual jobs, and although they weren’t very _close_ friends, they connected through that. Clint always felt like himself around Willy. Even when the conversation grew into silence, both of them were comfortable in that silence. Perhaps that comfort also came from the fact that both men could see the deep sadness in each other; One was hiding it behind a sea-weathered smile and the other behind a grumpy and aloof demeanour. 

Clint was happy for Willy’s company that evening, it was helping him keep his mind off Emily and Fox. He stared deep into his lager, swirling it, as he listened to stories about that day’s tough waves and strong ocean winds. Swirling the drink in his hands always grounded Clint, watching the way the light brought out the light tones in the amber liquid was incredibly calming, almost hypnotizing. 

As Willy began to describe a large crab he had seen just under the water’s surface, the saloon door opened and Emily came almost skipping up to the counter. Clint’s stomach dropped.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you this evening!” Gus spoke in a soft and friendly tone. 

“I wanted to come pick up some dinner for me and Fox, you wouldn’t happen to have any burgers on the grill would you?” Emily was already on her way to the kitchen as she spoke. 

“I’ve got a few on, just make sure to put on a couple more. But I’m sure Pam and Shane won’t mind waiting a few more minutes for their orders..” Gus chuckled. At that moment, Pam had her head on the bar cradled in her arm, and Shane was leaning against the wall beside him. Neither seemed to be incredibly conscious at the time. 

“Great, thanks Gus!” Clint watched as her face lit up in a beaming smile just as she disappeared behind the wall. 

She walked out a few moments later, two take out containers in hand, and waved goodbye to Gus. 

Clint reached up a hand and rubbed his eyes. It was amazing how fast he could get queasy just seeing about her. 

Willy wouldn’t say anything aloud, but he could see the hurt on Clint’s face. Clint’s expression reminded him of a bloodhound he had as a child, who’s face had naturally been in a perpetual, crestfallen frown. 

Clint finished off his beer and paid off his bill with Gus. Nodding a goodbye to Willy, he made his way home. 

He dragged his feet on the floor as he made his way to bed. Wrenching off one boot at a time, he tossed them haphazardly on the ground beside him. 

The bed springs creaked as his head hit the pillow. He closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to hit him like a train. But it didn’t. Instead thoughts of Fox and Emily kept him awake, tortured him for what seemed like hours. 

“No, i’m sure they’re just hanging out as friends. Yeah, friends. That’s probably what’s going on.”

...

“Are you blind, dumbass?” He replied to himself aloud, sighing. “Obviously they’re fucking. Accept it and move on.”

“Well but hold on, I can’t be sure. For all I know they're long-lost siblings and THAT’s why they’re spending so much time together.”

Clint put his hands on his head. _Not likely.._ Then, he had an idea. 

_Well, there’s one way I could find out for sure…_ Clint knew that Emily’s house had plenty of windows, and he was sure _at least one window would have a good view, of, well..._

He tossed the idea around for a few minutes. _Sure, it’s a disgusting and_ vile _thing to do, and if I get caught I’ll never live down being known as the town pervert… But I have to know for sure. And as a plus, I already have experience hiding in bushes.._

Decided, Clint rocked himself out of bed and walked to his front door. His hand resting on the doorknob, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. After a few seconds of steadying himself, he opened the door, and walked out into the night.


	3. Diving headfirst into the snow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has a good time, not a long time.

Clint struggled to pull himself free from the bush; A loose string from his pants had gotten snagged. He looked around into the night, anxiety high, hoping no one else was out this late. Finally yanking himself free, he quickly crept across the stone pathway and dove behind another set of bushes. 

Crouching there on the grass, he did one final survey of the town square. Reassured that he was alone, he turned to push his body flush with the leaves, and slowly lifted himself until he could just peer out above the shrubbery. 

In front of him were three windows with soft light streaming out. Clint knew these windows opened to Emily’s room, and he didn’t like to admit to himself why exactly he knew that. 

Squinting, he could barely see through the translucent white curtains that were drawn in front of the glass. He sighed and looked down at his shoes. What am I fucking doing… I told myself I wouldn’t do this again.. 

But he had already come this far. Crouching low to the ground (at least as low as his not-incredibly-agile frame allowed him), he walked around the bushes and quickly made his way to the side of the house. He came in from the west, knowing that staying closer to Jodi’s fence would give him a better view, and kept him further in the shadows. 

Slowly curling his fingers around the windowsill frame, he pushed his head close to the glass. There was a big enough gap in the curtain that Clint had a clear view of about half the room. Or, at least, he would have if a large green parrot wasn't sitting directly in front of him. 

Clint’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he stared at the parrot, who was sitting on a perch and bobbing its head to some music that Clint could faintly hear. Just beyond the bird he could see vague movement. 

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered to himself, “move out of the way asshole.” 

As soon as he spoke the parrot cocked it’s head and stared directly at him, it’s beady eyes ominously devoid of emotion. A furious wave of panic crashed over Clint, and his eyes grew wide as saucers. There’s no way that thing heard me ?? 

But almost as immediately as it looked at him, it looked away at something out of Clints view. The bird started to rock onto one foot, and then rock onto the other. It looked as if it was dancing. But as it briefly leaned to the right, Clint could see a mess of limbs in the bed a few meters back. 

Clint’s breath caught in his throat at the sight, and just as he started to process what exactly he was looking at, the parrot leaned back onto the other leg, blocking his view. As the parrot continued to dance, Clint continued to catch brief glimpses. 

A thigh he recognized as Emily’s, light-toned and covered in red freckles, sliding across the bed sheets. A sun-tanned hand making its way across her skin. A head of disheveled dark brown hair rocking slowly in a back and forth motion. 

Clint could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, and to his… other regions. His breathing had become a bit heavy. But still, the god-forsaken dancing parrot taunted him. 

Clint leaned back away from the glass and looked across at the window a few feet away. He knew it was right in front of the bed, and that it could be incredibly risky to look in through. He weighed his options. 

Well, I guess I now know that Emily and Fox aren’t just friends. I don’t need to be here anymore… 

He could feel an odd hollow hunger creep up inside himself. 

On the other hand, i’m already here… 

He looked the bird in the eyes and flipped it off, then crept to the next window. He cautiously peered in. 

Emily was lying there on her back, with arms outstretched and her hands grasping at the bed sheets. Clint’s hungry eyes travelled up and down her soft skin. 

Her blue hair was splayed out on the pillow, and her eyes were clenched shut in ecstasy. Clint could hear her moans through the glass. His gaze landed on her breasts, which swayed slightly from the movement of her hips bucking. Clint’s pants started to feel tight, and almost without thinking he pushed his pelvis up against the house and started to rub himself on the siding. 

As Clint’s eyes continued down, he saw Fox’s hands holding gently onto Emily’s legs. Their head was bobbing up and down between her thighs. 

A flash of anger and dejection came over him, but as he watched Fox slowly slide their tongue over Emily’s vulva, he couldn’t help but forget about his petty emotions. Instead, he imagined how Emily tasted, and he imagined the feeling of her pale skin under his hands. By Yoba how he yearned to feel her buck under his touch.

Clint started to breath heavier and heavier, almost panting as his excitement rose. The friction of his member against the house was tantalizing. He watched as Emily began to wrap her legs around Fox’s neck and began to moan louder. Fox kept their slow rhythm, and opened their eyes to look up at her. 

Clint couldn’t hold his moans in any longer either and groaned low, beggin himself to keep quiet. Frantically, he unbuckled his belt and grabbed his hard cock in one hand. He jerked himself off vigorously as his breath fogged up the glass in front of him. 

Emily’s hand quickly shot up to grab Fox’s hair as she let out one final whimpering cry and climaxed. Fox smiled, their tongue still warm and flat against Emily’s body. Watching her body lurch in pleasure, Clint was driven over the edge. He came mid-pump, and let out a surprised yelp. 

He collapsed against the side of the building, and he slid down onto his knees, his face pressed against the siding. His body was shaking from the roughly 30 second long encounter. 

With eyes still closed, he let go of his quickly softening dick. The inside of his boxers were soaked with cum, and Clint felt mild disgust with himself as he wiped off what little was on his hand onto his belly. As the fog of hormones lifted slowly, he could hear faint giggling from inside. 

He let out a discontented groan. Guilt and shame was quickly setting in. 

What the fuck Clint, why the hell did you do that.

Suddenly desperate to be in the comforting reclusion of his own home, Clint quickly stood up and buckled up his pants. Ducking below the windows, he left in a hurry, not allowing himself a final glance inside. 

Luckily he encountered no other villagers out for a midnight stroll, and he made it back to his home unseen. 

Once inside, he didn’t bother to take off his boots or coat. One hand clutching his head, he shuffled to bed and simply dropped onto the mattress. 

What the fuck is wrong with me. Why did I do that?? I’m disgusting, i’m fucking disgusting. No wonder no one likes me, I'm goddamn sickening. 

He let out a sorrowful groan. 

He didn’t think he’d fall asleep easy that night, expecting a mix of self-pity and self-disgust to torture him for hours. But instead he fell asleep within minutes, his body weak from the escapade, and his thoughts slowly succumbing to the images of Emily and Fox’s bodies intertwined. 

__________________________

The next morning Clint woke up with his stomach and underwear plastered with dry cum. Despising the reminder of his perverted deeds the night before, he quickly showered and got to work. He had to busy his mind so he could forget the whole thing even happened. 

It was only about an hour later, however, as he was repetitively striking a sword that his mind started to wander back. As he brought his hammer down on the anvil over and over, his mind numb from the monotony, he began to think about what he had done. 

At first, he worried that maybe someone HAD seen him slinking around last night. He’d seen Lewis sneaking across town at night before, quiet like a cat, and that thought alone was enough to make Clint a bit paranoid. 

But slowly his thoughts drifted to the sex he had intruded on. He struck down with the hammer, metal hitting metal. 

He would never forget how Emily’s body moved and jerked as she experienced that physical pleasure...

He struck down with the hammer, the sword clinging from the impact. 

The gentle curves of her full figure, and the way she wrapped her thighs tight around Fox’s neck...

He struck down with the hammer, the swords metal giving out under the hammers force.

The wolfish look in Fox’s eyes as they lapped up Emily’s juices and watched her come… 

He struck down with the hammer, but he didn’t hit metal.

“FUUUCK!”


End file.
